SPRING Now the lusty Spring is seen; Woodbines of sweet honey full Beaumont and Fletcher ON HIS BEING ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, It shall be still in strictest measure even Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven: As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye. John Milton TO THE CUCKOO O blithe new-comer! I have heard, O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, While I am lying on the grass From hill to hill it seems to pass, Though babbling only to the vale Thou bringest unto me a tale Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my school-boy days Which made me look a thousand ways To seek thee did I often rove And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain That golden time again. O blessed Bird! the earth we pace An unsubstantial, faery place, That is fit home for Thee! William Wordsworth But to the even-song; And, having pray'd together, we We have short time to stay, as you, We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew Ne'er to be found again. Robert Herrick SPRING Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; The palm and may make country houses gay, The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Thomas Nash UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat Come hither, come hither, come hither Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets No enemy But winter and rough weather. William Shakespeare WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING I heard a thousand blended notes In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts To her fair works did Nature link Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopp'd and play d But the least motion which they made The budding twigs spread out their fan And I must think, do all I can, If this belief from heaven be sent, William Wordsworth |